


1 Rue Messier

by PutItBriefly



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: A loving exploration of a toxic relationship, Dadrien, Gen, it's so toxic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-20 19:09:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21061721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PutItBriefly/pseuds/PutItBriefly
Summary: The years pass, and Adrien visits his father in prison.





	1 Rue Messier

**Author's Note:**

> I said to myself, I am feeling sad. I want to write something fluffy. I looked at Ch. 3 of Invisible Man. Nah, not doing it for me. Let's write something agonizing!

**1.**

It’s a small table.

Adrien can’t remember ever seeing his father on the other end of a table that wasn’t ludicrously long. Agreste tables were not built for people who wished to hear one another speak. No, the proper way to hold a conversation in their family was to relay what you wished to say to an assistant and hope they did a halfway decent job of conveying it. His father liked the help to be emotionless. That way, he did not have to deal with his son’s _ dramatics, _ even indirectly.

_ Dramatics_, Adrien has learned, is not a word that simply describes his behavior, as he had always thought, but a way to dismiss and diminish his emotions. He used to like being called dramatic. His mother was dramatic.

(His mother was dismissed and diminished, _ expendable _ until she wasn’t.)

He can’t remember ever seeing his father without impeccable, intimidating clothing, either. Gabriel Agreste never let anyone see him without his hair carefully gelled into place. But now he wears a prison-issued jumpsuit and his hair falls limp. Gabriel’s eyes are not cold or unreadable. 

They are tired and sad.

The worst part is Adrien feels robbed. Had it been as simple as _ Hawk Moth was a monster _ or _ His father was distant because he was a bad person _, then Adrien could have revelled in some kind of righteous justice over how it all went down. But the reality of it was that Hawk Moth only adopted the role of supervillain because it was the fastest way to draw out superheroes, and his father had been doing his best in the parenting department.

Not malice. _ Inadequacy _. An inadequate imagination. An inadequate ability to meet the emotional needs of others.

Even if—even _ if_—his parents had never touched a Miraculous in their lives, even if his father had never become Hawk Moth, even if his mother had never absorbed the damage of the Peafowl Miraculous too badly to survive, his relationship with his father could not have improved.

He’s been robbed of hope.

(He’s lucky Hawk Moth is in prison because wouldn’t that make a stellar target for an akuma?)

“Hello, Father.”

Adrien folds his hands on the tiny table. He has no idea what else to do with them.

“Adrien.”

_ How are you? _feels inappropriate. His father is in prison. His father will stay in prison as long as the penal code can keep him there. It’s hard to know exactly how long that will be—sentences and paroles and limitations all swirl around his head more frequently than Adrien likes where they turn into a jumbled mess. But he knows his father will be released someday. The laws on the books just don’t cover magical crimes.

Gabriel isn’t doing well. He was defeated by children. The magical means he used to keep his wife alive were replaced against his will by medicine and when that proved incapable of staving off the damage caused by the Peafowl Miraculous, Emilie Agreste passed and was buried.

Gabriel had not been permitted to attend the funeral.

Maybe they will talk about the service—Celebration of Life!—in a few months, but right now Adrien doesn’t feel up to it. Knowing his mother is dead is better than not knowing what happened to her, but only in the sense that knowledge doesn’t keep him awake at night. Other than that, the wound is as raw as ever.

Probably worse.

At least when he didn’t _ know, _ he could hope she was coming back someday or imagine she’d run away to be happy someplace else.

He opens his mouth a few times, but nothing comes out. Finally something does. “I don’t know how much they tell you, but I’ve been living at the Grand Paris Hotel with Chloe’s family.”

“Yes,” his father answers, “I am aware.”

“Mr. Bourgeois is helping me with emancipation. After that, I don’t know. I might stay with them.”

He realizes suddenly that what he is looking for is_ approval. _ Chloe’s parents care about him as much as they are able—in truth, they aren’t any better than Gabriel at acknowledging the worth of others—but Adrien has been uncomfortable with the idea of intruding on someone else’s family indefinitely.

He would feel better about it if his father approved.

He wants his father to think he’s made the right choice.

“In that case, I have Andre to blame for allowing you to go out without combing your hair.”

The approval isn’t coming.

“Mr. Bourgeois doesn’t look at my hair before I go out. I don’t have to ask permission to be seen by other people.”

Adrien is ashamed for wanting it.

Mr. Bourgeois does not expect him to be perfect.

Adrien stays at the hotel. He has a great big table in his suite that he never, ever uses because he has breakfast every morning and dinner most nights up in the penthouse with Chloe and Sabrina. They welcome his company, his desire for conversation, his _ dramatics. _

They always sit clustered around the same side of the table.

* * *

**2.**

Adrien likes visiting his father in prison because when you are an inmate, you have to show up. There are no Nathalies in prison, stoically informing him that his father is a very busy man and won’t be coming after all. (Well, to be fair, Nathalie is _ also _ in prison. Just a different one.)

He likes seeing his father’s eyes narrow at all the imperfections rising to the surface.

Adrien’s hair has grown longer and while he does comb (and gel) it, the look he’s aiming for is of the casual _ just rolled out of bed and couldn’t be bothered _ variety. Chloe hates it, tells him he’s better than that every morning. Kagami says he looks like he lacks discipline, beats him at fencing and then informs him—_actually, good job with the hair. It is the perfect expression of your lack of discipline. _ Marinette giggles into her hands every time his bangs fall across his eyes.

So.

He’s on the right track.

His clothes are off the rack, not tailored to his precise measurements and he picks them out all by himself. Before he ever set foot into a clothing store, the prospect of wearing whatever he wanted had been exhilarating. The reality of shopping quickly overwhelmed him. There are _ a lot _ of choices. In the end, Adrien categorized it as an irksome chore. Jeans used to just _ appear _ in his closet as if by magic. Now he has to make the time in his schedule to drag himself to the store and buy a new pair when he needs one.

He still goes to fencing every day. He still studies Mandarin. He even still plays music, though these days he does a lot more keyboards with Kitty Section than Bach on a grand piano.

Today, his father begins the conversation. As always, they skip the pleasantries. (Gabriel would have to be pleasant for those.) “It’s been some time since I have seen you wear a shirt that fits properly.”

“Marinette made it for me.”

Most of his clothes are off the rack. Marinette makes him hand-tailored, perfectly fit to his precise measurement garments. He knows he’s not the only one she does this for since she makes all the costumes for Kitty Section and has an online store, but he has noticed he has the largest collection of Surprise! It’s a Marinette Original! items in his closet.

The fact that his father used to make his clothes for him hangs in the silence.

Adrien realizes that maybe making clothes was his father’s love language.

* * *

**3.**

He writes his confession on a piece of paper and silently slides it across the table. You never know who might be listening, especially when there is no escaping the ever present shadow of prison guards.

Their policy regarding secret identities has undergone some adjustment in the years since Hawk Moth’s defeat. No enemies ready to pounce on loved ones or stake out a transformation site means the need for secrecy has all but vanished. But you also never know when Paris might need heroes for something more serious than a mugging on the street.

Currently, they fall somewhere around ‘it’s okay if family and trusted friends find out, but don’t go advertising it.’

Gabriel reads the paper. His expression does not waver. He’s adjusted to life in prison well enough that the mask of stoicism is back. Adrien would love to see tired defeat again. Maybe some anguish and regret for past choices.

Gabriel folds the paper and begins to tear it. Even his tearing is methodical. He makes perfect little squares, about a millimeter on each side when he’s done, all crisp movements and eye contact.

And his father says, “Yes, son, I know.”

Adrien had agonized over what to write. How to put it. Should he cushion the blow? Should he apologize? Should he demand an apology?

Ladybug often pointed out that his approach to problem-solving was straightforward and to the point, so that’s what he went with.

_ I am Cat Noir. _

Gabriel brushes the ruins of the paper first into a neat pile on the table and then sweeps them off the table into his cupped palm. Then they all flutter into the trash can. Too small and jumbled for anyone to put the puzzle together again. A confession meant for an audience of one, truth guarded from the rest of the world.

It isn’t rare for Adrien to cry after these visits. He usually does it in the car, and it’s usually over before G is finished navigating the parking lot. Brief flashes of anger or self-pity or injustice that flare up and snuff out as quickly as they came upon him.

Gabriel doesn’t react to the confession with anger or betrayal or blame. He already knew. Had never said anything. Waited for Adrien to come to him on his own, and protected him once he had.

He’s never cried in the visitation room until today.

And the tears have never been because he felt loved before, either.

* * *

**4.**

“I won’t be around as much soon. I’m going to university in Lyon.”

“Are you certain that’s wise?”

He’s not, to be honest. There is something utterly terrifying about extending his own independent personhood as far as _ Lyon. _There’s a part of him—the part that still craves validation and approval and the security that comes with mindless obedience—that wishes he could brush off his hands, claim Paris needs him, and refuse the call to grow.

He likes that voice.

It’s the part of him that makes him absolutely sure it’s time to go.

* * *

**5.**

After five years in Lyon, Adrien returns to Paris. He has not been entirely absent from the City of Light in the interim, but visits to the prison were few and far between. When he left, it had been with the firm resolve to write letters. But, finding the time to sit down and compose a proper letter had been harder than anticipated, and when he did, Adrien was never satisfied with his efforts. Too self-conscious to commit his _ dramatics _ to paper, the letters never really sounded like an account of his life. His father only wrote back twice. Somewhere between the restless dislike of his own writing and the chasm that was receiving very little in return, the intention to replace visits with correspondence withered and died.

But he’s coming home now, so the visits will resume. Not with the frequency of before. He’s an adult now. But more than what they were when he was living in Lyon. Although he wrote to his father to inform Gabriel that he was moving back to Paris, he saved his reason for coming back for an in-person conversation.

“I’m getting married.”

“Congratulations.” His father’s tone is so flat that Adrien doubts very much Gabriel feels any congratulations are in order. “I presume your intended has a predilection for yo-yos.”

While all his friends, neighbors and co-workers know Adrien is going to marry Marinette Dupain-Cheng, no human has been privy to both of their alter egos since Master Fu. There is a handful of people who know she is Ladybug. Similarly, there are a few who know he is Cat Noir. But as far as they have been able to determine, no one knows both. So no one knows whenever Adrien mentions his upcoming marriage to Marinette, he is by default _ also _ discussing a marriage between Cat Noir and Ladybug. There is a part of him that is genuinely thrilled to have another human being understand the words he is saying the way he means them in his heart.

He and Ladybug each bought a burner phone before he left for university. He didn’t tell her where or why he was going, only that he was. They were both confident Paris didn’t need two superheroes anymore, but just in case something happened, and she needed him to come back, they had the phones. And so gradually Adrien doesn’t really know how it happened, their Emergencies Only devices became the conduit for a long distance friendship that became a long distance romance. 

Marriage worked its way into their conversations before identity reveals did. When he came back to Paris, he was expressly coming back to be with her. And there was no speech about why she couldn’t love him, no begging him not to plan his life around her. Only _ I love you_s and _ Can’t wait to see you_s. They planned to reveal their identities, slowly integrate into each other’s civilian lives and announce an engagement after a year or two, when they fit into each other’s world. 

Their careful plotting to take it slow died the moment they finally saw one another without a mask. Their friends were surprised by the sudden engagement, but...not _ that _ surprised.

And while part of him is elated to have someone really understand, part of him also feels violated. Hawk Moth, _ Hawk Moth_, who emotionally manipulated every vulnerable person in Paris knows Cat Noir loves Ladybug. Casually assumes his fiancee is Ladybug, easy as you please, as simple as if he had peered into her heart all those years ago and damn well knew Ladybug loved her partner all along.

_ “Marinette,” _ Adrien says through gritted teeth. It is a _ correction. _

But his father only raises his eyebrows. “Indeed? I should have guessed.”

Yeah.

Yeah, Adrien knows the feeling.

* * *

**6.**

“Marinette is pregnant. We’ve talked about it a lot and we’ve decided we don’t want you to be a part of our children’s lives.”

“I would expect nothing less, given the number of times I have thrown you from buildings.”

The Miraculous made him nearly invulnerable. It has never once occurred to him that of all the things he could resent about his father, Hawk Moth pitching Cat Noir from great heights ought to be one of them. It was a decade ago.

And it’s suddenly unaccountably devastating.

But Adrien supposes that’s the thing about toxic relationships. 

They always find new ways to hurt.

* * *

**7.**

Marinette is the sort of person who wrote out her life plan at the age of nine and periodically revisits it for revisions and updates. She wanted a son and a daughter, usually. Sometimes two boys and a girl. But a life would be nothing without a long line of derailed plans.

They have four daughters. 

Their youngest is fourteen when Gabriel is released from prison.

Buzz around the imminent release of former fashion mogul and supervillain Gabriel Agreste begins about three and a half years before the prison doors actually open. It’s a circus of hearings, lawyers and talking heads on cable news. Five dozen blogs pop up, all claiming greater expertise on how to best adapt the inadequate, mundane laws Gabriel was charged under to the magical crimes he committed. The penal code was rewritten after Hawk Moth. It’s a comfort to know subsequent superheroes have a justice system better equipped to support them, but none of it can be retroactively applied to Gabriel.

He served thirty-two years in La Santé Prison.

.Adrien has known his father as a prisoner for more than two-thirds of his life.

They never brought the girls to 1 Rue Messier for a visit. The girls have never read a letter from their grandfather or sent him a card at Christmas. When Emilie was only a few weeks old, Adrien, high on fatherly pride, brought a photo for Gabriel. 

He regretted it instantly. There were no more photos of Em, no triumphant announcement of Jeanne, or Yvette, or Faustine. Gabriel might know they exist. But he also might not. Adrien always intends to avoid mentioning them to his father, but they are woven into the fabric of his life and their names undoubtedly pepper every story he tells more than he realizes. They are Ladybug’s most miraculous creations. Gabriel doesn’t deserve to know them.

But he does deserve a place to go when the prison releases him after thirty-two years of captivity. He is eighty-five years old, broken and feeble. No threat to society is posed by his release.

Heroes must have empathy for everyone. It’s a rule somewhere, Tikki is sure.

And he will never improve if he is not given the tools to do so.

And well, they haven’t completely lost their minds. Emilie is twenty-two, has been living on her own for two years. She takes the Miracle Box home with her the night before Gabriel’s release. The Ladybug earrings take the form of gold hoops in Em’s ears.

The hoops are familiar—Emilie took on the mantle at sixteen. Jeanne, then fourteen, was her feline partner at first, but she passed the ring to Yvette. Yvette’s tenure only lasted two or three months. Somehow she had never been photographed or recorded as Māo. That, combined with Jeanne’s love of using as many different Miraculous as possible, had led to considerable confusion on the part of the public over how many heroines there were. Yvette passed the ring back to Jeanne and reinvented herself as the multiplying Lǎoshǔ just to make life even harder on anyone who wanted to figure them out.

The ring is on Faustine’s finger now. She’s had it for six months, and it takes the form of a silver band inlaid with a large turquoise stone. She wears four other rings just like it, matching earrings and a necklace. If her grandfather suspects anything but that Faustine is a dramatic teenager who is really, _ really _ into to chunky turquoise jewelry, he doesn’t let on. (It helps that both of those things are demonstrably true.) Not even after she excuses herself from a family dinner with a halting, nonsensical excuse and their phones buzz for the rest of the evening with updates about La Coccinelle and Lady Noire fighting a supervillain in the heart of the city.

Faustine, baby of the family, had whined that her big sisters already used all the good cat-themed superhero names and committed to Lady Noire in a fit of petulance. But her parents had named her a fine old fashioned French name meaning ‘good luck’ and Jeanne and Yvette live for confusing reporters. Faustine is left answering to Lady Luck more than anything else. (Em, at least, is more like their mother. She’s interested first in doing her job and won’t indulge reporters in speculation. How many girls are there? Is this family the progeny of Ladybug and Cat Noir? La Coccinelle has no comment.)

Everything has changed. Gabriel is not so intimidating now; Adrien doesn’t hesitate to be firm about his own wishes or direct his father’s day-to-day life. Gabriel knows the girls now. They are all some combination of wary and open-minded, their opinions of their grandfather all ultimately different, but points on the same line. There’s less money, less prestige, less power. The tables are small and the house is loud.

And nothing has changed.

And for all their steely optimism, Adrien and Marinette both know it never will.

But that’s the thing about hope.

It holds on tight, even when it shouldn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> 1 Rue Messier is the address for the "VIP" visiting room at La Sante Prison. It's the place to be if you are a famous criminal, apparently.
> 
> Yvette's superhero names are Cat and Mouse in Chinese, respectively. According to Google. So. You know. Maybe not.


End file.
